The Paladin of the Holy Kingdom, Part III: Act 5, Chapter 10
Chapter 10
“That fool. That absolute fool!”
A man’s enraged voice drifted out from the window beneath Liam’s feet. In the evening following the emergency session of Hoburns’ Royal Court, similar sentiments were expressed across the Prime Estates. Seemingly no one had a good opinion of the Holy King before, but now their attitudes bordered on outright hostility.
“Does he think we can station our armies outside the cities indefinitely? Who does he think is paying for everything?”
“At least we’ll be able to spread our troops out along the highway come winter.”
“Winter,” the first Noble snorted. “We’ll be overwhelmed by disease before then. Temple staff will have to be brought along from the south just to manage.”
“Transport will be troublesome. We’ll be able to move five hundred men every four days, at most. The number of houses waiting to lease our ship has grown tenfold, as well. Three are calling in favours for grain delivery.”
“Curse it all. Has this country been bedevilled? At this rate, I wouldn’t be surprised if the sun just decided to not rise tomorrow.”
The discussion devolved into a formless rant, so Liam moved on. He thought that the Holy Kingdom was in a bad situation from the start, but there seemed to be no limit to how much worse things could become.
He dropped in behind a hedgerow, going unnoticed by the street patrols on the other side as he navigated the Prime Estates. The additional chaos and increasingly crowded surroundings made it even easier to get around than usual. In the shadows of a small public garden, he paused to listen in on a small group of noblewomen.
“Will you be returning to Debonei, as well?”
“Yes, not long after my lord husband arrives from Rimun. It seems that I’ll be shipped south with the grain.”
The group’s light laughter filtered through the leaves.
“I suppose it can't be helped. I certainly wouldn't want to be here with tens of thousands of men flooding into the city. What about your daughter?”
“Carla? I’ll let her know closer to the departure date. Some marriage prospects are arriving from Rimun with the ship, as well.”
“My, such troubling times and you’re thinking of making a match.”
“It is precisely in troubling times that the young are more amenable to potential matches, are they not? Never mind accepting suitable matches, they’ll be busy trying to make heirs due to the situation.”
“I suppose you’re right about that. Who did you have in mind?”
“Several young men have proven themselves quite capable of managing their holdings in the North, let’s see…”
Liam slunk away. He wasn’t sure if they were talking about Carla Vigo, but she probably wouldn’t want to leave the Custodio Household and he didn’t want her interrogating him at swordpoint for names so she could preemptively assassinate anyone who might threaten to take her away.
After visiting a dozen other manors, Liam returned to Rimun Gate. Sir Jimena was in the captain’s office debriefing a pair of House Restelo’s new thief-takers.
“Liam,” he said. “How did it go?”
“There’s a lot of information to sort through, sir. Did something happen while I was away?”
“Just the opposite,” the Knight said. “Everyone’s so damn busy dealing with the news that they’ve pretty much forgotten we exist. I’ve been sending our thief-takers out into the rest of the city to collect information.”
“I hope you haven’t assigned them to do anything too risky,” Liam said. “They’re getting better, but they’re not that good yet.”
“Nothing illegal at all,” the Knight replied. “It’s mostly just walking around taking note of gossip, deployments, supplies, and the like.”
“Then they better have good memories.”
Aside from needing to study magic, the most unexpected thing about his work was the sheer amount of stuff he needed to memorise. Ijaniya even had entire sections of training dedicated to retaining information gathered on the field. They even got him used to picking up bits of intelligence from his surroundings while actively engaging in combat.
“They had better, for their sake,” Sir Jimena muttered. “Head back to the camp: Sir Jorge will receive your report there.”
“Yes, sir.”
House Restelo’s labour camp had grown five-fold since he had started working for them, but now it was twice as busy as when he left it earlier in the evening. He eyed the activity curiously. It looked like they were cleaning up the place – at least as clean as one could get for a city of tents. The camp's administrative centre had undergone a small transformation, looking less like a makeshift office and more like a square decorated for the harvest festival. Liam frowned when he saw who was standing in front of the overseer’s tent.
“Marim,” he said. “What are you guys doing here?”
“All of B Company’s here,” the patrol sergeant replied, “Since everyone in the city’s too busy with their own worries to bother us, Sir Jorge had us come in to look all impressive. I don’t know who it is, but it looks like we’ve got an important guest coming.”
If they were meeting in the camp instead of Lord Restelo's manor in the Prime Estates, did it mean that House Restelo was plotting a major move? Then again, the Prime Estates had grown insanely crowded. Inside the tent, Liam found Sir Jorge being dressed up by his wife. The Knight sent a thankful look in his direction before shooing the woman away.
“She will be the end of me, I tell you,” Sir Jorge said. “Did you know she bought five different sets of formalwear for me without my knowing? I asked her why, and she told me it was necessary. Pah! What need does a man have for five suits? Tell me, does Nat do this to you?”
“Not really,” Liam replied. “I guess she did upgrade my bandolier three times in the last two weeks.”
“Ah, how I envy you. Maybe you had the right idea after all, hm? Keep her busy at home so she does not become busy in the market.”
Nat visited markets and shops in the city all the time, so Liam didn’t follow Sir Jorge’s reasoning. She just tried to ‘upgrade’ her husband in a different way.
“So,” Sir Jorge took a seat at his desk, “was your excursion fruitful?”
“I’ll let you be the judge of that,” Liam said, "I won’t pretend to understand even half of what they were talking about.”
He waited while the Knight produced an inkwell and a stack of fresh paper. Sir Jorge dipped lightly dipped his quill and looked up at Liam expectantly.
“Um…first of all,” Liam said, “it doesn’t seem like anyone likes the Holy King much anymore.”
“I don’t think anyone was particularly fond of him in the first place,” Sir Jorge shrugged. “Well, he did have plenty of supporters after the war, but that support assumed that he would be the man he was before the war.”
“What was he like before the war?” Liam asked.
“Many believed that he was the best candidate for the throne,” Sir Jorge answered. “His brother Felipe was too much of an eccentric and he tried to introduce many strange, foreign ideas. Additionally, everyone worried that, if he ascended the throne, his successor wouldn’t even be a Human.”
“What about Calca?”
“Calca was, well, Calca. Beautiful, powerful, and idealistic. A bad combination for a leader, if you ask me. Those types always end up as villains in the tales.”
“It still sounds like she was pretty popular.”
She still was, apparently. It was understandable given the hell that they were plunged into after her death.
“Well, beautiful things are best viewed from afar, eh? As the Holy Queen, she and her followers pushed many reforms that no one wanted while leaving many, more important matters by the wayside. Caspond, at least, would have run things more to everyone’s liking…or at least that’s what we thought.”
Liam wasn’t certain about Sir Jorge’s assessment of Calca. From what he had gathered, the Holy Queen was a highly popular ruler who prioritised the well-being of her subjects. She wasn’t a fearful or power-hungry autocrat and had talented people working under her to achieve her vision. In many ways, she reminded Liam of the Sorcerer King, who ruled in a similar manner with similar desires for his country and subjects.
“I guess no one thinks that way about the Holy King anymore,” Liam said. “I think the words most frequently used to describe him today are ‘imbecile’, ‘fool’, ‘oblivious’, and ‘troglodyte’. The Nobles in the Prime Estates weren’t even afraid of being heard from the street.”
“That has been a long time in coming, I think,” Sir Jorge said. “We royalists – well, House Restelo was a royalist house back then – felt that he could be used to bring some much-needed reform to the Holy Kingdom. Alas, it seems that a weak King is no good for a kingdom no matter how favourable his weakness is to you. But, you can understand how one couldn’t help but try, yes?”
“Does that mean the royalists are going to change their strategy?”
“I’m sure that they have already been in the process of doing so,” Sir Jorge said. “Everyone must assume that the Crown is not to be relied on for leadership and direction. The aristocratic establishment will assume a more independent and assertive stance for the good of the Holy Kingdom and its people. I suppose you could say that the royalist actions to suppress the power of the Crown work to facilitate this and you can expect the establishment as a whole to do the same for as long as Caspond sits on the throne.”
“The royalists don’t sound much like royalists anymore.”
“You are correct in that. No one will seriously support the Crown anymore. Even the Temples may shun Caspond. It is fortunate we are not a tyrannical, autocratic regime like the Baharuth Empire, else there would be no hope for the Holy Kingdom.”
Most people had a generally good opinion of the Empire, but, if the Empire ended up with an incompetent ruler like Caspond, that would have indeed been a terrible thing. Any opposition would simply be crushed under the heel of the Imperial Army. Liam could only be thankful that he came from a country with an immortal sovereign who possessed power, wisdom, and intelligence beyond Human comprehension.
“Now,” Sir Jorge said, “what else have you heard?”
“Royalist logistics are breaking down,” Liam replied. “Those ships that have gone missing are really hurting them now. Everyone’s desperate to lease transports for troops and cargo.”
“Hm…yes,” Sir Jorge signed. “That will severely limit our ability to support any armies in the north. Every soldier that we field is a soldier that we must supply. Between our work camps and the northern harvest, we’ll be able to sustain our forces if they stay near the towns and cities, but no one will be able to march very far relying on land logistics. You specified ‘royalist logistics’. Does this mean that the conservatives do not share the same issues?”
Liam nodded.
“None of the conservative Nobles I’ve listened in on have mentioned any logistical issues. In fact, the royalists are trying to lease ships from the conservatives because they haven’t lost any.”
Sir Jorge leaned on his armrest, stroking his thin moustache with a furrow on his brow. His confusion was understandable, as even House Restelo had encountered misfortune in the north. The Sea Sprite had departed Canta weeks previous with Sir Luis and not a trace of it could be found.
“How can that be?” Sir Jorge half-said to himself, “Does that mean they are aware of what is going on in the north? No, if they intended to throw their weight behind Felipe, then…”
“Sir Jorge.”
Marim’s voice sounded from the entrance of the tent. The Knight looked up from his thoughts.
“Yes, what is it?”
“Our guests have arrived at the front of the camp.”
“I was beginning to think they wouldn’t show up at all. How are our preparations?”
“I think they’re as good as we can get them, sir.”
“I’ll be right out.”
Sir Jorge rose from his desk. He made it halfway to the entrance before his wife swooped in and pounced on him like a hawk on a bunnia.
“Aiyee! What are you doing, woman?”
“The Lord is here and you're still half-dressed!”
“Half-dressed? This is already–owowowowow!”
Liam went for the entrance as the woman savagely raked a comb through Sir Jorge’s hair. He could do nothing to save the beleaguered Knight.
“Liam!” Sir Jorge called out behind him, “Ensure the perimeter is secure!”
He saluted after the Knight issued his final command, then left and fastened the entrance shut. The sentries outside sent glances at the tent every time a wail leaked out.
“Poor guy,” Marim said. “That woman is really something. I’m glad we got uniforms or he might have unleashed her on us.”
“I still have no idea what’s going on,” Liam said. “Why is everything all fancied up? Who is this ‘guest’?”
“Ah, I guess you’ve been out in the city all evening. Lord Restelo is entertaining a Noble guest here.”
“…entertaining a Noble guest after midnight?”
“Well,” the patrol sergeant said, “we were expecting them all evening, but I guess it took that long to come in from Canta.”
“Five minutes!” A voice called out.
Liam broke off from the sentries to examine the surroundings. The immediate area around the tent was all he could manage before Lord Restelo and his party arrived. Liam concealed himself out of habit, watching the procession from between stacks of neatly arranged supplies.
Who is that?
The Noble walking beside Lord Restelo was unfamiliar, and the eight Knights accompanying them bore unfamiliar livery. Each of the Knights had a dangerous feeling about them and Liam receded into the shadows as they scrutinised their surroundings with clear, sharp gazes.
Sir Jorge popped out of the overseer’s tent just before the party arrived. A smiling Maid came out behind him. I took a moment for Liam to realise that the Maid was Sir Jorge’s wife.
“Welcome,” Sir Jorge bowed politely, “Lord Restelo; Lord Vigo. Welcome to our humble little operation. I am Sir Jorge, the camp overseer. This is my wife, Lady Esmeralda.”
“Thank you for the warm welcome, Sir Jorge,” Lord Vigo nodded. “It’s been a long trip from Canta.”
“I can imagine, my lord. When did you arrive from Rimun?”
“Early in the afternoon. It’s a good thing that the roads were in excellent condition. They were even paved to the hills.”
“Yes, there was a need to improve the softer sections with all of the traffic to Hoburns these days. House Cohen saw to it not long after being appointed to Canta. Do your men need any additional assistance situating themselves?”
“They should be fine,” Lord Vigo replied. “Thank you for going out of your way to prepare the fields for us.”
“Ah, it’s our pleasure, my lord,” Sir Jorge said. “With everyone coming to the capital with their men, we’re trying to stay ahead of the demand for camp space.”
After a long set of introductions and pleasantries were exchanged, Sir Jorge led his guests into the tent. Lord Vigo’s Knights formed a ring around its perimeter. Liam tested their detection as he listened in from afar.
“What’s the latest you’ve heard from the Capital, Lord Vigo?” Lord Restelo asked.
“Nothing out of the ordinary, recently. I take it that the Royal Court called an emergency session?”
Lord Restelo snorted.
“If you can call it that. We had to suffer through Caspond’s increasingly insufferable antics. His ignorance was made plain for all to see and I’m not even sure that he cares at all about what is going on.”
“I’ve read the accounts delivered from our allies about his conduct over the past few months,” Lord Vigo said, “but I still find it difficult to believe he’s that far gone. He was raised as a Prince, as far as anyone knows.”
“There’s not the slightest hint of that. It even feels as if his words belong to the thoughts of others.”
“The thoughts of others…?”
“Indeed. It’s been a source of friction multiple times since he took the throne. One house or the other is occasionally accused of influencing Caspond behind everyone else’s backs.”
“Our reports did say that he was too easily swayed,” Lord Vigo said. “Has there been any indication of where this influence might lead?”
“No. It’s random, as far as I can tell.”
“Random? Are you implying that there’s no reason or rhyme as to whom he is listening to and why?”
“As strange as it sounds, yes. The Royal Court was wary of it at first, as many suspected it was some ploy to keep us off-balance. Now that he has thoroughly proven his incompetence, however, it’s become a wearisome routine that grows more annoying by the day.”
A set of young women came by to offer the Knights refreshments and a late meal. The Knights were polite and accepted the hospitality and they also politely brushed aside the women’s attempts at flirting with them. Liam pondered the harmonious show they were putting on.
Why was a conservative Noble in House Restelo’s camp in the first place? Hoburns’ population was rapidly swelling due to the influx of aristocrats and their men, so everyone was probably looking for a place to stay. The city itself was already out of the question by midday, so anyone else would have to camp outside of the walls. Unless the conservatives wanted to go begging the royalists for space, House Restelo was the only option.
Still, that wasn’t any reason for a high-security meeting in the middle of the night. Something else had to be going on.
“What are the Duke’s plans in light of recent developments?” Lord Restelo asked.
“Nothing beyond what is expected, I would say,” Lord Vigo replied. “While what we’ve been discovering is grave indeed, the fundamental divide between us and the royalists remains. So long as they insist on their rampant exploitation of the north, we will remain firmly in opposition.”
“That may be a difficult thing to ask. On paper, the benefits of the new methods are clear. This is especially true when one considers that the aristocracy seems to have no choice but to limit the power of the Crown. The danger that Caspond represents is such that we must never allow him the means to force through any policies without gaining the establishment’s approval first.”
“As much as I dislike the idea,” Lord Vigo admitted, “it may be necessary to do so. But only the latter part. It is clear that the methods employed in the west are more beneficial for the Holy Kingdom as a whole. The abuses in the east gain little and cost much.”
Was House Restelo trying to broker a deal between the royalists and conservatives? There didn’t seem to be much point in that. Caspond’s position was so weak that he didn’t stand a chance against the Nobles should they oppose him.
“If anything,” Lord Restelo said, “your faction will be doing more to empower Caspond than the royalists. From what I understand, you still pay your dues to the Crown in full while also rendering your services for free.”
“That’s not incorrect,” Lord Vigo said, “but our point still stands. The goal of suppressing the Crown’s power can still be achieved without resorting to royalist methods. Urban centres only accounted for a third of royal revenues before the war. That’s nowhere near enough to overturn the establishment’s advantage.”
“But it is enough to give a fool ideas and Caspond is a fool amongst fools. Our superiority must be unquestionable, even to one such as he.”
Liam stifled a yawn. Did debates between Nobles always go like this? It was no wonder that they couldn’t get anything done quickly without being forced into a situation that required immediate action.
The meeting stretched on for another hour before the Nobles decided to continue the discussion in the morning. Not much had been accomplished beyond reviewing information and outlining stances that were already well-known. The Holy King’s passiveness over everything seemed to encourage everyone to take their time despite everyone agreeing that something needed to be done.
With little else to do, he returned to the city to resume his patrol. Morning revealed a drastic change in the countryside from atop the city’s curtain walls. The surrounding labour camps, which created a belt of tents along the edge of the city’s one-kilometre perimeter, had doubled in size overnight with the addition of the aristocracy’s forces and more still were on their way. It appeared that the fields had been hurriedly harvested in advance of their arrival.
Back on the ground, Liam found Nat waiting for him as usual at the gate. The girl smiled and waved before coming up to join him as he left the city. Liam glanced at her as she took his left arm. She had changed quite a bit from the timid girl who was waiting for a man to pick her up on the platform.
“Good morning, dear,” Nat said.
“Good morning, Nat. How was your night?”
“Crazy! It’s become even crazier now that the sun’s come up. June looked like she was going to explode this morning.”
“Explode?”
The Merchant who ran Nat’s stall was pretty excitable. He wasn’t sure if Humans could explode, though.
“There’s just so much to do, now! She was trying to go in every direction at once looking for new business opportunities. Then, she woke up this morning to find that a whole army camp popped up beside us! She says that they told her even more men are coming.”
“Did anyone buy your stuff?”
“It all went poof five minutes after June opened the stand,” Nat replied. “Everyone’s looking for everything. We’re trying to figure out whether we should keep filling army contracts or switch to supplying all of the new people arriving.”
“They must be paying pretty well if you’re thinking of switching from those armour contracts.”
Since she could produce multiple suits of armour simultaneously without worrying about finding buyers, Nat was averaging three suits per day. Not only was it an astonishing rate of production, but it was also making her rich.
“Well,” Nat said, “the best part is that the soldiers that are coming in are buying armour too! And they’re paying in real coin, just like the Royal Army. Our plan for now is to just keep making armour, but sell as much as we can to all these new people. According to Sir Jorge, the armour contracts are barely moving. That means we should take advantage of the temporary demand from these army camps setting up around the city.”
Liam nodded at her explanation. It made sense, as far as he could tell.
One thing he hadn’t realised while operating in the Holy Kingdom until recently was the nature of Lanca Leather and how prevalent it was. Unlike the cattle in Re-Estize, Lanca were Magical Beasts. Some people said they were a type of Nuk or maybe closely related to them.
Because they were Magical Beasts, it meant that goods derived from Lanca were superior to those made from regular cattle. The dishes they were turned to were better; their hides and bones were better; even the glue made from them was better. When it came to armour, it gave the Holy Kingdom’s light infantry the option to function as heavy infantry…or maybe their heavy infantry operated as light infantry. Needless to say, Rogues and Rangers used it as well and it gave them a surprising level of protection.
This also explained why Nat was growing so quickly. The material she was working with was far harder to handle than mundane leather. It also meant that the Leatherworkers in the Holy Kingdom capable of producing Lanca Leather goods were, in reality, far more skilled than they appeared to be.
“What’s going on there?” Nat asked.
“I’m not sure…maybe it’s just from all those people trying to move in.”
A huge crowd had gathered further west along the highway, past the entrance of House Restelo’s labour camp. Upon closer inspection, they found many Restelo Retainers gathered there as well, including several Knights. They found Sir Jorge near the back of the crowd, surrounded by his subordinates. Liam couldn’t see past all the people, so he went over to ask the overseer what was going on.
“Sir Jorge.”
“Ah, Liam. I figured you’d have beaten me here.”
“…I was working.”
“Of course. Forgive me for being so scatterbrained – too much is happening all at once.”
“What’s this crowd for?”
“The latest column of armsmen arrived from the west,” Sir Jorge told him. “They bring most troubling news. The investigation of the flotsam washing up on the north shore has turned up wreckage from the Water God’s Fury.”
Liam frowned at the unfamiliar name. Sir Jorge offered a helpless smile at his reaction.
“Prince Felipe’s flagship,” the Knight explained. “It appears that the conservative faction no longer has its candidate.”
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